The Miracle at St. Bruno's

Keziah put her finger to her lips. "Ah, that's the root of it all, Mistress. This pale beauty has caught his fancy and he wants change. Men are rare ones for change, though there's some that'll be faithful. I'll tell you this, Mistress Damask, there's little about men that I don't know. But you find out a little more every time. I knew about men before I was your age. I'd had my first by then. A handsome gentleman who came riding in the woods when I was with my Granny and he said to me, 'Meet me in the woods close by the cottage'... that was my Granny's cottage... 'and I'll have a fairing for you.' And I met him and our bed was the bracken which, when all's said and done, can prove as good a virgin's couch as feathers. It was dusk, I remember, and the air full of the scent of spring and when I got back my Granny was sitting there by the fire she always kept and the pot was brewing and her black cat that she used to say had more wisdom in his tail than most folk had in their whole bodies mewed and rubbed himself round my legs when I came in. She said, 'What's that you've got, Keziah?' I said, 'A fairing.' It had blue ribbons on it and was made of marchpane. 'Oh,' she said, 'so you've gained a fairing and lost your virginity.’

And I was afraid being less than your age. But Granny said, 'Well, you can't learn the ways of the world too soon and you'll always be one who'll never say no to the men nor they to you, so whether you take your first now or in two years' time it's of no matter.' He came back... that fine gentleman, and we tried it under the hedge and even in a good feather bed and it was better every time. And then he disappeared and I was sad but soon another came riding by... and so it's been.”

I said, "Keziah, are you not what is called a wanton?”

"Well, my love, I've always kept it quiet. I'm not one to brazen it round, I've always tried to make it so that it was just a little matter between the two of us. My word, my tongue runs away with me and all because of the King and his Queen.”

I thought a great deal about the Queen lying in her dismal prison. I shuddered when the barge carried us up the river past that grim gray fortress. I averted my eyes when we passed the Mores' house. It was now deserted and I thought how it used to be when the peacocks strutted on the lawns and there was usually a glimpse of some members of that family walking in earnest conversation, or laughing together as they played some game.

Then came the day when the Queen walked out of her prison to Tower Hill where her head was cut off by the executioner's sword which had been brought from France for this purpose; and the guns boomed out and the King rode off to Wolf Hall to be married to Jane Seymour.

I kept thinking of her lying in her litter, proud and triumphant. That she had come to this was tragic and I remember my father's comment that the tragedy of one could be the tragedy of us all.

Meals were more silent than they used to be; guests who called on us and shared our meals no longer talked as freely as they once had.

We heard the new Queen was expecting a child and then one day the guns boomed; there was great rejoicing for Jane Seymour had given the King what he desired more than anything-a son. In conferring this great blessing she lost her life but the important matter seemed to be that at last the King had his heir. We were all commanded to drink to the new Prince; and we loyally did so.

Poor motherless Edward, the King's heir! Doubtless he would join his sisters in their nursery-Mary, the daughter of Queen Katharine, who was now a young woman of twenty-one, and Elizabeth, the daughter of Anne Boleyn, who was but four years old.

We all guessed it would not be long before the King was seeking a new wife. Poor Queens-Katharine, Anne and Jane! Who would be the next?

It was not of the King's next Queen that we heard but of something quite different.

Keziah was laughing about it with torn Skillen.

"Mercy me. Well, it seems nuns and monks are human after all.”

"Ain't what you'd expect 'em to be," said torn; and they giggled together.

Others took the matter more seriously. My father was very grave. It seemed that there had been several complaints concerning the conduct of nuns and monks in various nunneries and monasteries all over the country and this was giving rise to great scandals.

Kate told me about it. "A monk was found in bed with a woman," she said. "And he was blackmailed and has been paying for months. One Abbot has two sons and he has been making sure that they both have good positions in churches.”

"But monks don't go out into the world. How could they do these things?”

Kate laughed. "Oh, there are stories. They say that there's a tunnel connecting a nunnery and a monastery and that the nuns and monks meet for orgies. They say that there is a burial ground where they bury the babies the nuns have, and that sometimes they smuggle them out.

"It's all nonsense," I said.

"There may be some truth in it," insisted Kate.